Stolen Dance
by Nizhoni
Summary: It was 8:04, Malia knew something was wrong. For weeks she had been a silent observer to Stiles' erratic prom planning. He'd obsessed over the smallest detail, right down to finding her the perfect corsage. Now the night had arrived, and he was late. Stiles goes missing on prom night and the gang find themselves in a terrifying game where a dangerous player is making all the rules.


**A/N PLEASE READ: So this idea has been running around in my mind for sometime now, ever since I finished watching "The Loved Ones," an Australian horror film that if you haven't seen already, I'd definitely recommend. Considering what inspired this story, it should be pretty obvious that this will be "horror" fiction and will have some elements that potential readers could find triggering and disturbing. While I've chosen not to rate this story as "M," there will be some chapters that will call for an "M" rating. I will make sure to warn readers about that in my author notes. The pairings in my story may also not be the most "popular," but like any good sailor, I have to stick by my ships. If you don't support a pairing, I ask that you at least be respectful and not leave hurtful comments. While there will be a central focus on Stalia's relationship, I've really tried my hardest to incorporate the other characters just as importantly to the plot. Lastly, this story is set in a human AU, meaning there will be no supernatural elements or characters. But hey human's can be compelling too. Just look at our favourite bat wielding Stilinski. With all that said, thank you to everyone who gives this story a chance and for any reviews, follows and favs. I appreciate the feedback so much and your comments help to keep me motivated to continue. I hope you all enjoy reading the first chapter to "Stolen Dance."**

She wound the key to the wooden music box in her hands and lifted the lid, freeing the small porcelain dancer whom sprung up and twirled playfully. A melancholic tune played along with it, resonating softly between the four walls of the girl's pink bedroom. Susan smiled, walking the box to her vanity and setting it down, before seating herself. Beside her, a brawny black Rottweiler sat staring curiously.

Turning to her side, she tapped its wet nose. "Today is a special day Eddie."

The dog's ears perked with intrigue. The girl's reflection bloomed in its darkened orbs.

"I'll tell you why," She teased. "Today is the day I ask him to prom."

With a tilt of its head, the animal let out a whine.

"Well of course he'll say yes!"

She narrowed her eyes at the dog, which cowered and fled out the room with its tail between its legs. With a huff she turned back to the mirror. Bringing her dark hair across one of her shoulders, the girl tilted her head and hummed as she began to tug her hairbrush through. "He's not like the others."

When finished, she set the brush down, appraising herself in the reflection.

Despite her best efforts, Susan's expression fell. Her hair was still too wild, her eyes too black and beady.

Her skin, thin and pale as it was, appeared translucent in the dusted glass.

" _Not pretty,"_ She thought. Not like _her_ , the one he wanted.

She clenched her teeth tight, her jaw tautening and with a sudden fit, she hurled her fist into the mirror. The glass shattered and her knuckle split in a mess of broken shards.

Susan hissed and breathed deep. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and with the bloodied hand, she swept it away painting a crimson trail across her cheek. The blood dripped between her fingers, and onto her dress.

" _Wonderful,"_ she thought. _"Now I'll have to change."_

She looked up, catching her reflection in what remained of the broken glass, marvelling at the warped figure staring back at her.

"Cracked." She whispered. "And broken."

"You're not," a smooth voice spoke behind her. She turned, not surprised to find her brother Rodger standing in the open doorway. Rodger unlike her was attractive in all the right ways. He was the physical light to her dark. Blue eyes and loose blond curls, all chisel and cheekbones with a lucid charm that Susan envied.

The young man sighed, closing the distance between them. He crouched beside her, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped the small rag over Susan's hand.

"Now, what is this all about?" He asked, tilting his gaze to meet her lowered expression.

"Rodger," She began, "Do you think I'm pretty?"

Something in his expression tightened, and he swallowed hard, "Of course I do."

"Will he?"

"He'd be a fool not to."

Rodger brought his thumb to his lips, sucking for a moment before reaching up and gliding the bud of it softly across Susan's cheek, wiping the blood away.

"There," he murmured. "Better."

Susan sniffled, smiling at her brother who returned the gesture with a toothy grin.

Her heartbeat quickened in the silence that passed between them.

After a moment Rodger blinked, regaining his senses. Again he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. "I have something for you."

"For me?" Susan squealed.

"Turn around."

She turned to face the broken mirror and Rodger stood, walking behind her. He opened the box and Susan watched in awe as he lifted the gold chain from its hiding place. A rich blue gem carved into an ovoid shape, and caged intricately between two copper coils hung loosely from its end. He leaned over the chair. "I've been saving this for you, waiting till I thought it felt right." He placed the delicate piece across her neck. "But I think it's been long enough."

Susan's eyes widened. "Wasn't this-

"Yes," he stated, fastening the clasp and placing two hands on her shoulders.

The girl frowned.

"Don't worry little sister, it suits you better."

Seeming satisfied by this Susan reached up, snagging the small pendent and rolling it between her thumb and index finger. "It's perfect."

"Like you," he said, gripping her shoulders tighter. Susan straightened in his grasp.

"You know that I love you, don't you?

She nodded.

"And I try my best to give you all that you want."

"I want this to work."

"It will."

She stared deeply, meeting her brother's eyes through the shattered reflection. "He's different."

"Good. But if he's not…"

Her tone darkened, "Then we stick to the plan. Just like the times before."

Rodger smirked. "What's this one's name?

She thought of his milky skin laden with moles, his hair spiked in all which ways, his eyes round and wide with boyish intrigue. And his lips, they were pink and perfect and always accompanied with his clever remarks. She'd spent so many nights imagining all the ways she could make him use those lips to please her.

 _"Finally,"_ she thought. _Finally_ she was jumping out of her imaginings. _Finally_ their months of planning were coming to fruition.

She was going to get everything she wanted, and what she wanted more than anything was "Stiles Stilinski."


End file.
